


Say What?

by flowersforgraves



Series: hc_bingo round 8 [9]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: In which Donut feels supported.prompt: loss of hearing





	Say What?

He first realizes there’s going to be a permanent problem right after the bandages come off. When the bandages were still on, he could lie to himself, thinking that they were muffling sounds so he couldn’t hear properly. But now that they had come off he has to face the fact that he’s deaf in one ear.

Donut decides early in his recovery that he’s not going to tell anyone about this. Yeah, the scars are extremely obvious when he takes off his helmet, and he can’t really see out of his right eye, but he’s convinced he’ll be mocked mercilessly for his hearing loss. His mind races, desperate to find some way to cope and account for his new disadvantage, not to mention a way to hide it from his teammates.

His resolve doesn’t last long. After the third time he has to ask Sarge to repeat an order, accompanied by the sound of Simmons snickering, he yells, “I _can’t fucking hear_ , okay?!”

“Well, that’s pretty obvious,” Simmons quips. 

“ _No_ ,” Donut says, “I can’t hear. That -- that thing, the bomb? I can’t hear out of that ear.”

That makes Simmons shut up with an audible snap of his jaw. Grif crosses his arms, and Donut has no problem reading his body language to know that he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue. Sarge… Sarge just looks at him.

“Son,” Sarge starts, and Donut can feel Simmons tense indignantly behind him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Donut stops. “I…”

“Never mind,” Sarge says. “Important thing is, we know now. Grif! Don’t you know that ay-es-ell thing?”

“…Age, sex, location?” Donut asks, hopelessly lost.

“No,” Simmons says impatiently, more curt than usual (probably because of the “son” Sarge had bestowed on Donut), “American Sign Language.”

Donut can’t believe his ears -- well, ear singular. “But-- but-- but--” he sputters.

“But me no buts,” Grif says, a wicked edge to his tone. “We’re learning ASL together even if none of us knows how to speak it right.”

Simmons clears his throat. “Actually, I think I might be able to ask Command for some books. I have a library card…”

“Nerd,” Grif mutters, and Simmons swats him on the back of the head. 

“I thought you would make fun of me,” Donut mumbles.

Sarge swings around to face him. “ _What_ did you just say, soldier?”

Donut pops the seal on his helmet and removes it. “I thought I was going to get laughed at.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still growing back out from the surgery.

“Donut,” Simmons says seriously, “we wouldn’t.”

“You make fun of Grif,” he points out.

“Yeah, but I deserve it,” Grif says, before Sarge can go off on a rant. He takes off his own helmet. “I mean, we really gotta watch out for each other. Simmons always makes sure I remember my OCD meds. I help him with his anxiety. When it’s something you can’t help, that’s different.”

Donut blinks rapidly. “I-- yeah. I guess. I didn’t think about it that way.”

Grif slings an arm around Donut’s shoulders. “Listen, how else are we gonna cope?”

Simmons nods in agreement.

Sarge puts his fists on his hips. “Now, are we gonna stand around all day, or are we gonna do that ASL thingamabobber?”


End file.
